


I wish...

by parkkate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, Fluff, I honestly have no idea how to tag this, M/M, Wish Fulfillment, and a little bit of smut, im so sorry :D, use of unknown potion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 05:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15478242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkkate/pseuds/parkkate
Summary: What do you do when your wishes suddenly come true? When all you have to do is ask? Well, if your name is Harry Potter, then the answer is: be an awkward mess!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phoenix4Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix4Dragon/gifts).



> Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

“What have you done to him?” 

The glare Hermione was giving Pansy was so scary, the whole room went quiet.

“Relax, Granger,” Parkinson said, rolling her eyes. “It was just a prank.”

“You made him drink a potion!”

“Not a dangerous one.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“Guys—” Harry looked around the eighth year common room, at everyone staring at them, getting more uncomfortable by the second.

“I’m going to report you,” Hermione fumed.

“She’ll get kicked out,” Zabini interjected.

“Well, she should have thought about that before putting Harry in danger,” Hermione shot back.

“Guys,” Harry tried again. “I feel fine.”

Nobody seemed to be listening.

“It’s been fifteen minutes and nothing has happened yet,” Parkinson said in a bored tone. “Honestly, I thought it would be more entertaining.”

“You really should watch your pumpkin juice, mate,” Ron whispered into Harry’s ear. “It was far too easy for her to slip something into it.”

Harry let out a sigh and pressed a finger against his throbbing temple.

“We’ll go down to Slughorn’s quarters and—”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Granger, he—”

“DON’T interrupt me when I’m talking!”

“I bloody well will when you’re talking nonsense like that!”

“Guys…” Harry closed his eyes.

“You’re walking on thin ice,” Hermione glowered.

“Oh yeah? Want me to show you how much I care?”

“GUYS!”

The two girls kept glaring at each other.

“You’re not a prefect anymore,” Parkinson snarled, “and Potter is not lying on the floor dying, so what do you even—”

“You can’t just go around, putting potions into people’s pumpkin juice,” Hermione yelled, her face glowing bright red.

“It was a harmless potion for Merlin’s sake!”

“You admitted you don’t even know its effects!”

Harry gritted his teeth as the pain in his head became almost unbearable. When Parkinson started shouting at Hermione, he balled his hands into fists and yelled, “Ugh, I wish you two would just SHUT UP!”

All eyes were suddenly on him. Some started whispering as Ron backed away and Zabini blinked at him. Hermione opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but she seemed to think better of it. Or… did she? 

Her eyes widened and she suddenly looked panicked. Harry’s eyes wandered over to Parkinson, who had a similar expression.

“What?” Harry asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

Hermione made a choking sound and her hands flew up to her throat.

Ron darted over to her. “What is it?”

Hermione gestured to her throat and shook her head.

“You can’t breathe?” Ron asked, stunned.

Hermione shook her head and clamped a hand over her mouth.

“You can’t… speak?” Ron arched an eyebrow.

Hermione nodded. As did Parkinson.

“What just happened?” Seamus asked. He looked over at Harry. “Did you do that?”

“What? How would I—”

“Yeah, you said you wished they shut up,” Zabini said, giving Harry a speculative glance.

“So?”

“Do it again,” Zabini suggested.

“Do what again?”

“Wish for them to speak.”

“That’s stupid, I won’t—”

“Just do it!”

Harry let out a sigh, feeling incredibly foolish. “I wish you two would speak again.”

The second these words left Harry’s mouth, Parkinson started screaming.

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU JUST DO?”

“I— I don’t—” Baffled, Harry took a step back.

“Oh my god, Harry, that was scary,” Hermione wheezed.

“But I didn’t—”

Again, everyone was staring at him. It reminded him of second year, when the school had found out he was a Parselmouth. Great.

“How did you do that?” Hermione asked.

“I have no idea,” Harry said, truthfully.

“Do you think…” Ron gulped. “Do you think it has anything to do with that potion?”

A murmur went through the room that made Harry feel even more edgy.

“Wish for something else,” Zabini said.

“Like what?” Harry almost stomped his foot. This was beyond ridiculous. Why in Merlin’s name was this happening? And why was it happening to him?

“Just…” Zabini looked over his shoulder. “Wish for that cushion or something.”

Harry rolled his eyes but held out his hand. “I wish I had that red cushion over there.” He almost toppled over when the cushion zoomed over and hit him in the face. A few people started laughing, others looked rather concerned.

“Bloody hell,” Ron murmured.

“This is bad,” Hermione whispered.

“What do you mean, bad? This is fantastic?” Ron roared. “Harry, the things you could do!”

“Like what?” Harry asked, skeptically.

“I don’t know. But you can wish for things! I wish I could do that.” For a moment, Ron was perfectly still, as though he was hoping the effect would somehow rub off on him after his declaration.

Over the next few days, Harry found that, unsurprisingly, Hermione was right. It was bad. After he went to Slughorn and told him he had ‘accidentally’ come across a weird potion that apparently made his wishes come true, the Potions Master had simply laughed while patting his own belly and told him, he should enjoy it while it lasts; the effect would wear off in a few days.

“I know you aren’t one to take advantage of that, my boy,” he had chortled. “Besides, you deserve some fun after… everything.”

Still, Harry was constantly on edge, trying to watch his words. But, of course, it slipped out once or twice. And, of course, it happened at the worst times possible. 

Professor Flitwick had decided they should take a mock test to which the whole class had groaned. Harry had stared at the parchment and muttered, unthinkingly, “I wish I knew the answer to that.” Mere seconds later, several books had been floating towards him, but Professor Flitwick had flicked his wand before Harry could even touch one.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” he had announced with a disapproving look on his face. “Mr Potter, I would have thought you wouldn’t need to cheat your way through this class. I’m very disappointed.”

Harry had groaned and buried his hands in his hair. When was this bloody potion going to wear off?

He was still feeling irritated when he headed to the Quidditch pitch after dinner. Being alone and clearing his head while flying seemed like the perfect thing to do. Except, he wasn’t alone. Of course. Harry mentally grumbled as he spotted white blond hair on the stands. 

He decided to simply ignore him. There was only one problem. Malfoy didn’t ignore him.

“Potter,” he spat. “What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like, Malfoy?” Harry sighed.

“Whatever. Do it somewhere else.”

“This isn’t your property, Malfoy,” Harry ground out.

“Well, I was here first,” Malfoy said defiantly.

“You argue like a first year,” Harry retorted.

“Just piss off, Potter.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Can’t you just sulk somewhere else?”

“I am not sulking!”

“What’s your problem then?”

“My problem—” Malfoy was fuming, but he cut himself off as though he had been about to say something he’d regret. It piqued Harry’s interest.

He cocked his head to the side, deliberating his options. He could make Malfoy tell him. It wouldn’t exactly be fair play, but… it was Malfoy. And maybe, hearing the truth for once would finally clear the air. Yeah… probably not. But it was worth a try.

“Honestly,” Harry began, “I wish you would just tell me what your problem is.”

Malfoy glared at him. “You. You are my problem,” he hissed.

“How so?” Harry said. “I thought we finally—”

“Yeah, you just had to play the hero again and save me from Azkaban,” Malfoy sneered.

“I just spoke at your trial. It wasn’t my decision—”

Malfoy huffed. “And you’re telling people to give me a second chance.” He made a face.

“I’m just trying—”

“Don’t,” Malfoy interrupted him.

Harry bit his lip. He had been wondering if he was going a little overboard. He should have known Malfoy’s pride would take a hit. He peered at Malfoy from under his lashes and bit his lip harder.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“What?”

“I just wish… err… I wish you would be honest with me. Tell me what’s really bothering you.” Harry almost took a step backwards when Malfoy rose from his seat and leaned closer to him.

“I just told you, you’re what’s bothering me,” he snarled. “You and your tousled hair, your annoying smile, your stupid hands, your arse, which is honestly just bloody—”

Harry’s eyes widened as Malfoy clapped both of his hands over his mouth. He looked as shocked as Harry felt. They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, before Harry finally croaked, “What?”

“Why did I just say that?” Malfoy whispered, horror-stricken.

“I— Err—” Harry had no idea what to say. Had Malfoy just— Was he saying— No, it couldn’t be. Right?

Harry licked his lips.

“Malfoy,” he said, his voice slightly shaking. “I really wish you would tell me what you really think of me.” He held his breath as Malfoy slowly lowered his hands and his face turned a rather unbecoming shade of purple.

“I think you’re a bloody wanker,” he choked.

“Oh,” Harry said, wondering why he suddenly felt a tinge of disappointment. Then again, Malfoy was kind of a wanker, too, wasn’t he? At least in Harry’s opinion. Maybe he wasn’t asking the right questions. But what was he supposed to ask?

“You know,” Harry said, pulse quickening, “I wish you’d tell me how often you think about me.”

Malfoy looked as though he was trying very hard to keep his mouth shut. Literally. He seemed to be holding his breath, too. Before Harry could ask again, he wheezed, “All the bloody time.”

Harry blinked. Well, that didn’t necessarily mean—

“You’re all I can think about.”

Oh. Now that—

“What the fuck did you just do to me, Potter?” Malfoy was positively livid. He lunged at Harry, grabbing him by his robes.

“I— Um—”

“Spit it out, Potter.”

“Would it help if I told you I think about you all the time, too?” Harry said, hesitantly.

“Don’t change the subject, you— Wait, what?”

Malfoy’s grip on his robes loosened a little, but he was still clutching them as though he was about to throw Harry to the ground. Not in a good way. 

“Yeah, I, err—” Harry licked his lips again.

“I don’t believe you,” Malfoy said, narrowing his eyes.

“If— If I try something,” Harry mumbled, “will you promise not to get mad?” Harry knew it was a dumb question to ask. This was Malfoy after all. But Harry’s head was spinning. Did Malfoy even realise how close they were standing?

“Try what?” Malfoy said through gritted teeth.

“Um— Malfoy,” Harry gulped, “I wish you would tell me what you want us to do right now.”

Please don’t let it be ‘fight’! Please don’t let it be ‘fight’!

“I— I—” Malfoy looked like a fish on dry land. He was obviously trying not to say it. Whatever ‘it’ was.

“I— I want—”

“Yes?” Harry leaned forward the tiniest bit.

“I—” Malfoy’s eyes flicked down to Harry’s mouth.

“You want to kiss me, don’t you?” His voice didn’t even remotely sound as confident as it had in his head. Luckily, he didn’t have much time to feel embarrassed about that.

“Yes,” Malfoy whispered.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. “Then do it.” He waited, heart pounding in his chest, to be violently tugged forward. Instead, Malfoy moved achingly slow and took a step forward until their bodies were touching.

“You asked for it, Potter,” he whispered before his lips brushed against Harry’s. It was strange, Harry thought, how well their mouths fit together. Tentatively, he put his arms around Malfoy’s waist. They both jerked at the contact, but after the initial shock, Malfoy only seemed encouraged. Harry felt the warmth of his palm against his cheek and melted into the touch.The kiss was so much softer and sweeter than he had anticipated.

Much to soon, Malfoy pulled away. His eyes were huge and his cheeks enchantingly flushed.

“I— I don’t— What just—”

Harry tried to give him an encouraging smile. “So… my hands, huh? They’re stupid?”

Malfoy blushed even more. “Whatever you did to me, Potter, you’ll pay for that!”

“So you didn’t like the kiss?” Harry said, teasingly, but also a little worried.

“That’s… not what I said,” Malfoy said, averting his eyes.

“Okay,” Harry grinned. He took a tentative step forward. “How about, err—”

“What?” Malfoy snapped.

“How about I wait for you in the common room after everyone has gone to bed?”

“And then what?” Malfoy scoffed.

“And then…” Harry bit his bottom lip, willing himself to ignore the embarrassment and just say it. “And then I could put my stupid hands to good use?” Dear Merlin, why did he have to sound so squeaky?

“Your— What?”

“Okay, see you then,” Harry said hastily, hurrying off before Malfoy could make fun of him.

In the distance, he heard Malfoy scream after him.

“That better not be an empty promise, Potter!”

Harry grinned, suddenly feeling incredibly giddy. Who would have thought he could wish for something and it would actually come true? Damn it, Parkinson could be such a pain in the arse. But just this once, Harry decided, he was willing to let it slide.


	2. Chapter 2

“I told you, Potter, it’s fine!”

“But what if you change your mind and—”

“Then I’ll tell you.”

“But—”

“Will you shut up and kiss me already? Or tell me what you want, but stop whining about—”

“I’m not whining! I just don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable— Ah!” Harry arched his back as Malfoy started grinding on him. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, breath catching in his throat.

“Who said I play fair?” Malfoy smirked. “Besides, you’re the one whose wishes are coming true, so I don’t really see how this—” he moved his hips suggestively, “—is that big of a deal.”

Harry let his head fall back onto the pillow and slowly put his hands on Malfoy’s thighs. He bit the inside of his cheek when he felt them quivering beneath his touch. Maybe Malfoy was more nervous than he was letting on. Good. Honestly, Harry was feeling dizzy just from  _ looking  _ at Malfoy straddling him.

His heart gave a violent squeeze when Malfoy slowly leaned down and gently rubbed their noses together. Ugh, their lips were only inches apart. If he would only… just… 

“Wish for something, Potter,” Malfoy breathed against his lips. 

“But—”

“Do it.”

“I— I—”

“Merlin, Potter!” Malfoy sounded exasperated. He let his head fall to Harry’s shoulder. “You’re no fun. And you call yourself a Gryffindor!”

Harry scowled at the ceiling but slowly wrapped his arms around the other boy. “What if I wish for something and… and you don’t like it?” It felt so wrong to say it out loud, to admit it to Malfoy of all people. He felt him shift and shivered when Malfoy brushed his lips against his neck.

“I guess we’ll have to try and see.”

Harry’s heart jumped at the word ‘we’. He found himself unable to move as Malfoy breathed against his skin.

“Are you that scared?” Malfoy teased.

“Pfft! You wish!”

“No,  _ you  _ wish! That’s the whole point! This potion is completely wasted on you,” Malfoy muttered. “Come on, Potter, wish for me to touch you, wish for our clothes to vanish, for toys to appear, a mirror, silk bedding,  _ anything _ !”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Your bed already has— Wait, toys?” He blinked. “A mirror?” 

Malfoy let out a sigh and nudged Harry’s jaw with his nose. “Come on, Potter. Don’t let me wait like this.”

Harry inhaled sharply. “I— I wish—” His hands found their way to the nape of Malfoy’s neck. “I— I wish you would kiss me.”

Harry didn’t even have time to close his mouth before Malfoy practically attacked him. His eyes fluttered closed as Malfoy slipped his tongue into his mouth and tugged at his hair. 

“I would have done that anyway, you idiot” Malfoy muttered against his lips. “Wish for something better.”

“See? But that’s the thing,” Harry said, pushing himself up. Malfoy adjusted himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest with an arched brow. “That implies I should wish for something you wouldn’t do. I would basically force you—”

“Potter, I am  _ this  _ close to going back to the common room. Do you want to do this or not?”

“I do. But…” He bit his lip, feeling heat rush to his cheeks. 

Malfoy gave him an appraising look, but, slowly, his features softened and he put a hand on Harry’s chest.

“Would it help,” he began, his voice low, “if I gave you some pointers?”

“What?” Harry asked, feeling a tingling in his belly from the intense look Malfoy was giving him.

“Just… repeat after me.” Malfoy moved his hand lower, to Harry’s stomach. “I wish you would touch my cock.”

“Oh!” Harry’s eyes widened. “You want me to— Yeah, hold on.”

Harry tried to sit up, but Malfoy pushed him back down. 

“No, you imbecile!” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “I told you to repeat after me!”

“What? I— Oh. _ Oh! _ ” His entire body started to prickle as he felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through him. He licked his lips, willing his erratic heartbeat to slow down. “Malfoy.” He slid his hands up Malfoy’s thighs. “I wish— I wish you would touch my cock.”

“Finally,” Malfoy exclaimed. He lifted his hips with a mischievous grin. It took him no time to unzip Harry’s trousers and pull them down just enough to expose his pants. His embarrassingly tented pants. Malfoy’s grin widened as he moved his hand to palm Harry’s erection.

“Oh!” 

Malfoy leaned forward, until their noses were touching again. Slowly, the grin vanished from his face and was replaced by an irritated frown.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, his heart thundering in his chest. 

“I can’t seem to move my hand,” Malfoy murmured. “Ugh, seriously?”

“What?”

“I think you need to make another wish.”

“What?”  
  
“Potter, I know you’re slow, but try to keep up,” Malfoy snapped. “Your wish was only for me to touch your cock. I am touching your cock. Now wish for me to… do something.”

Harry pressed his lips into a tight line. He really, really didn’t want to say it out loud. 

“Potter, are you blushing?”

Harry scowled at him, his grip on his thighs tightening. “Fine,” he barked. “I— I wish…” Why was this so hard? He wanted Malfoy to touch him, but… saying it out loud… 

Malfoy sighed and bent down until his lips were brushing Harry’s ear.

“Repeat after me, Potter,” he breathed. “I wish you would wank me off.”

Harry almost choked on his own spit. 

“Come on, Potter, don’t be shy.”

“I’m not—” He broke off when Malfoy captured his lips in a heated kiss and pressed his hand more firmly against Harry’s cock. “Oh god! I—” Harry arched his back and felt Malfoy smile against his lips. “Malfoy, I wish you would— you would wank me off.”

Malfoy grunted in approval and shoved his hand down Harry’s pants.

“Ah!”

His fingers curled around his cock and began to stroke him… a little awkwardly. Malfoy grunted again before he pulled back and moved lower, until he was sitting on Harry’s shins. He yanked down Harry’s pants, his lips stretching into a satisfied grin when Harry’s cock sprang free enthusiastically.

“Wait,” Harry gasped as Malfoy reached out for it. He gave him a puzzled look, but waited for Harry to continue. “I— I wish you would show me yours as well. If— If that’s okay,” he added hastily. He blinked at Malfoy’s stunned expression which, luckily, slowly turned into a lopsided grin.

“As you wish,” he whispered. His fingers found his own trousers and Harry watched him, mesmerised, as he worked the fly open to reveal his emerald green pants. Of course they were green. Just like everything else in Malfoy’s room. Minus the furniture. The really old looking furniture. Honestly, it looked like an antique store in here. Not exactly how one would picture the room of a 19 year old boy.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat when Malfoy pushed down his pants. His fingers twitched at the sight. “I— I wish you would let me touch you,” he whispered, unthinkingly, his eyes darting up to Malfoy’s face, to his rosy cheeks and his parted lips.

“Yes.” His voice was barely a whisper. 

As Harry straightened himself and reached out with slightly trembling fingers, he tried to hold Malfoy’s gaze. “I wish you would—”

“Yes, Potter,” Malfoy interrupted him, closing his eyes, “whatever it is,  _ yes _ !”

Harry gripped his cock, his mind spinning from Malfoy’s breathy voice. 

“Yes, yes,” Malfoy hissed as Harry began to stroke him. It was such a curious feeling, holding another boy’s cock. Harry marveled at the sounds Malfoy made, how his hips jerked and his eyebrows twitched as Harry slowly but surely picked up the pace. 

When Malfoy started moaning, “Potter,” under his breath, Harry was sure he was going to explode. He gripped his own cock with his free hand and started pumping desperately. 

“Wait,” Malfoy groaned, “let me—” The moment Malfoy’s fingers touched Harry’s cock, a violent shudder ripped through him. “Oh!”

The feeling of unfiltered pleasure quickly mingled with horror as he watched Malfoy’s eyes widen while his stomach, his groin — fuck, even his chest — was being coated with Harry’s spunk.

They both stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“I— I’m sorry,” Harry said, hating his voice for sounding so squeaky.

“For what?” Malfoy snorted. “For coming so soon? For coming all over me? Or for not finishing what you started?” He gestured to his cock.

“Oh, right,” Harry murmured sheepishly. He peered at Malfoy from under his lashes; his expression was unreadable. “You know,” Harry muttered. “Sometimes, things would be so much easier if I knew what you’re thinking. I wish—”

“DON’T!” 

Harry almost fell backwards when Malfoy clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Are you nuts?”

Harry stared at him in confusion. Why was Malfoy so— Oh. OH!

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled against his hand. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Well, luckily you didn’t actually say it,” Malfoy grumbled as he slowly lowered his hand. “You know what, maybe it would be best if you stopped talking until this bloody potion wears off.”

Harry was about to scowl at him and tell him to bugger off, but he could only blink in astonishment as Malfoy leaned forward, buried his hands in his hair, and kissed him.

“I think you’re better with your hands than you are with your mouth, anyway,” Malfoy whispered, and Harry could feel him grin. 

“Oh yeah?” Acting on impulse, Harry grabbed Malfoy’s hips and flipped them over, until Harry was lying on top of him. Malfoy made an undignified sound of surprise that made Harry chuckle. He quickly slithered down, settled himself between Malfoy’s legs and smirked at him. “Challenge accepted, Malfoy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Say Hi on [tumblr](https://parkkate.tumblr.com/).


End file.
